Hold On
by ChickInStarkTower
Summary: "On that Godforsaken planet, Christine Chapel found herself praying once again..."  She was trying to comfort him, she was...Kirk/Chapel


A/N: Prompt from my July 11th post, which can be found here at my livejournal (galindaxxxx, feel free to friend me). The poem quoted is W.H. Auden.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trek, the McLachlan lyrics, or the Auden poem, sadly.

Sarah McLachlan - Hold On

_"Oh God, if you're out there won't you hear me?_

_I know that we've never talked before._

_Oh God, the man I love is leaving_

_Won't you take him when he comes to your door?"_

_Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,_

_Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,_

_Silence the pianos and with muffled drum_

_Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come._

Christine Chapel could only distinctly remember three times in her life when she'd prayed. The first time, she was six and her pet rabbit had just died - she remember asking God (or whoever was up there) to watch after Peanuts, please. The second time, she was fourteen and her older brother was going on his first off planet mission. She prayed that Adam stay safe. The third time was when they'd lost most of their graduating class in the Narada incident and Vulcan had bloody well imploded and once they got back to San Fransisco, she and Nyota attended the memorial service and they'd gone back to Nyota's dorm room and they'd both stared at Gaila's empty bed, said nothing, and gone their separate ways. Nyota'd sought out Spock, Christine was sure of it, and she found herself knocking on the captain's door at two in the morning, drenched from the rainstorm outside, make-up running tracks down her cheeks.

_Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead_

_Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,_

_Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,_

_Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves._

"Chrissy?"

She'd responded by dissolving into hot, painful tears and Jim Kirk had pulled her into his arms, pulled her inside and given her a towel to dry off with, one of his shirts to change into and an embrace, a lifeline, when she needed one most of all. That night, Christine Chapel had prayed, laying in Jim's arms, for the souls of her friends who'd lost their lives, and thanked God (or whoever was up there) for the man who'd saved the ones who'd been saved, the man laying beside her.

On that Godforsaken planet, Christine Chapel found herself praying once again. Praying that Bones, Spock, Scotty, someone, hell, anybody would find them in time, praying that Jim was strong enough to keep breathing, praying that she could keep him alive, that he hadn't already lost too much blood. She gently stroked his sun-kissed hair and whispered comforting lies, "You'll be alright, babe. It's okay, it's okay."

He coughed, a raw, rumbling sound from deep in his chest and she made a soft, sad sound, feeling the hacking jolt through him. Flecks of red stained his lips, and she choked back an audible sob.

"Ch-Chrissy," he managed.

"Shh, shh, Jim, they'll find us any minute now. And McCoy can read me the riot act for the bandaging job I did on your side."

"N-nah...Bones..." he slurred, "Bones'be...okay..."

He coughed again, the blood splattering on her leg as he laid across her lap. Out of instinct, she held him tighter, pressed her hand against the angry wound in his side, then chest, then his middle, trying to keep pressure on all three at once and running out of hands.

"I'mma rest...my eyes a minute...Chrissy. 'M tired."

She shoved the emotion out of her voice, "Jim..."

His blue eyes, hazed with pain, fluttered shut, "Just...for a minute, Chrissy..."

She ran a thumb over his cheek.

She prayed.

_He was my North, my South, my East and West,_

_My working week and my Sunday rest,_

_My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;_

_I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong._

_The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;_

_Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;_

_Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood._

_For nothing now can ever come to any good._


End file.
